"Jesus," Stephie swore, because it was a swear word, that name. That fucking church. Still distressed - just looking after his family didn't feel like enough, she felt like she should be trying to rip something apart - she watched him talk about scorpions and voices and seizures, and cupped his elbows in her hands as he held her shoulders. She tried to smile through it, though it felt like smiling was the last thing she should be doing. "Maybe think about mouth scorpions next time you want a drink?" she suggested, feebly.